


Intentions and Orders

by Laikin394



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, Mild breath play, PWP, blowjob, cladois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 22:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laikin394/pseuds/Laikin394
Summary: Alois orders Claude to seduce him. Or so he believes.





	Intentions and Orders

"Claude," Alois whines, stirring the cooling oatmeal with his spoon, "I'm bored."

Claude replies nothing. His eyes follow the lazy swirls of the spoon - twice going clockwise, once in the opposite direction. He has cooked the porridge perfectly, not too watery and clump free. He even decorated it with fresh berries and honey, balancing out the sweetness with a pinch of salt. Claude's efforts remain unappreciated, as the little Earl continues to play with his food, not bothering to give it a taste.

Alois raises a spoonful to his mouth. He sighs, tilting it and letting the oatmeal fall back into the plate before the sloshes it around some more, poking at the berries.

"Claude."

"Yes, your highness."

"Are you going to say anything about that?" Alois turns his head to look at the butler standing at his side at the respectful distance from the table. "I'm waiting!"

"My sincerest apologies, your highness, for producing a meal that failed to provide entertainment."

The boy drops the spoon into the plate with a clink, the oatmeal splattering the table cloth and flying up to land on Alois's chest.

"Ugh. Look what you've done!" Alois's eyes narrow and he snaps his fingers, bidding for his butler to come closer and clean him up. Claude is irritated by the sound and the casual scorn of the gesture. He's certain the boy does it for that very reason.

Claude kneels, pulling a crisp handkerchief out of his breast pocket and flicking his wrist to unfold the fabric. He wipes the oatmeal off the boy's clothes before it dries.

"Claude," Alois says for what must be the hundredth time today. He never gets tired of repeating his name and Claude wonders how soon everyone else in the mansion will develop a tick at its sound. "Claude. Claude!" Alois keens. The man looks up, pushing his glasses back onto his face.

"Yes, your lordship?"

"Do I have any on my face?"

"No, your highness."

"Look closer."

Claude hooks his gloved fingers under the boy's chin and Alois raises his head, lips twitching in an attempt to contain his grin. There's absolutely nothing marking his face other than the threat of a smirk to blossom. Knowing all too well Alois won't leave it be, Claude takes a clean napkin and carefully wipes his cheeks and mouth. Alois's eyes flutter shut and he leans into the touch.

"Mmm. That feels nice."

"Thank you, your highness."

Alois cups Claude's hand, pressing it to the side of his face and nuzzling into the palm. He gives the man a coy look through the lashes.

"Your touch is so gentle. Say, are you trying to seduce me?"

"That has never been my intention. I apologise if I it came across as such."

"Why not?" Alois pouts.

"That would be inappropriate."

"Pfft." Alois shoves Claude's arm away. "Can't you be... less of this?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand what your highness meant by _this_."

"You know. Of yourself."

"And what should I be then?"

"Exciting. Unpredictable." Alois waves his hand in the air, trying to explain it better. "I want you to trill me. Make me feel alive. Have the butterflies in my stomach, all that sort of thing."

"Would this amuse you, my lord?"

"Yes! Yes, it would."

"Is this your order?"

"Mhmm. Do your best."

Alois purses his lips together, throwing his head back as if he was waiting for a kiss. Claude stands up, folding the handkerchief and the napkin to put them away but making no move to meet the boy's expectations.

"Well?" Alois peels one eye open. "I said it was an order, you can start right now. Seduce me, Claude."

"Doesn't the notion of seduction imply that the other party is either unaware of it or pretends to fight it?"

Alois slams his hand on the table, making the saucer and the cup on it rattle.

"Dammit, Claude! I said I wished to be amused and thrilled and I want it now!"

"And yet, your highness, you left me to do it my way. Therefore, I get to choose the timing." Claude leans over, putting his lips close to the boy's ear. "Tonight," he whispers, his voice deep and full of promise.

Alois trembles with anticipation, his lips falling open as his mind must be buzzing with alluring possibilities.

The corner of Claude's mouth twists. Despite the humiliating order he received, he definitely doesn't mind intense response to the slightest teasing, no matter how predictable.

"Under one condition, your highness."

"Condition? What condition?! I'm the one giving orders, Claude, did you forget?"

Alois's nostrils flare as his face flushes pink. He isn't used to rejection and Claude waits for him to run out of breath before adding promptly.

"I humbly ask that you finish your meal, your lordship. And the rest of them today."

Alois squints at him.

"Are you making fun of me? Do you mistake me for a child that needs guidance?"

Claude presses his hand over his heart, bowing in what he aims to be a respectful way with a tinge of remorse.

"Never would such a thing occur to me."

Alois hums, scrutinising him and then shrugs.

"It better be good," he mumbles grumpily before shoving a spoonful of the porridge into his mouth.

***

Claude can sense the boy's eyes on him throughout the day, but he follows their normal routine without commenting on it. Alois gets more impatient at the nightfall, bouncing and wiggling in his chair as Claude unhurriedly serves him tea.

"Are you feeling alright, your highness?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Pardon my boldness, but you seem to have developed some kind of an itch that has affected your sitting and made you restless. Perhaps, I should ask Hannah to draw you a bath with some soothing herbs?" Claude keeps enough concern in his voice for the mocking edge to be unnoticed, but he knows Alois will sense it regardless. He's curious as to how much the boy is willing to glance over to receive what he craves.

"I don't have an itch! I just... Ugh."

"Please complete your sentences, your highness."

"Never mind. Let's just finish the tea and go to bed."

"Certainly."

Alois winces, probably burning his tongue on the tea, but hurriedly gulps it, trying to get to the bottom of the cup as soon as possible.

"No!" he shouts when Claude puts the empty cup on the tea tray. "Have the triplets clean it up. Let's go already."

"As you wish."

Alois runs up the stairs, giggling.

"Come on, Claude. Can't you go faster?" He turns around, hands on his sides. "Or did you change your mind?"

"It is impossible. The order is binding. My opinion, willingness or the lack thereof matter not."

"Good, good." The tips of Alois's boots are hanging off the top step as he swings back and forth. "Then hurry up."

Claude ignores the request and continues walking with the previous pace. Alois races him to the room, bursting through the doors. He hops onto the bed, leaning back onto his elbows and sticking one of his legs out.

Claude doesn't rush to undress him, stopping at the bedroom doorstep. He looks to his right, admiring the row of candelabra on the walls. The flames are beautiful, he'll give them that, but fire has never been his favourite force, possibly due to it being too stubborn to manipulate. The air, on the other hand... Claude takes a deep breath, blowing on the candles. He has to apply very little effort for the gentle and obedient wind to put out the flames. Even those at the end of the hall flicker helplessly before vanishing and allowing the night seep through the windows, filling the mansion with darkness.

"Cla-aude!"

Alois shakes his leg in the air, his playfulness giving way to impatience. Claude follows through with their night ritual, undoing the laces on the boots and sliding them off the slender legs. The stockings follow and Claude takes his time peeling them off to reveal the creamy skin, resisting touching it more than would be considered decent. Alois wiggles again, sitting up to pluck the buttons of his vest and shirt before Claude finishes folding the stockings.

"What do I need that for?" he asks when Claude pulls out his nightgown. "Really now, did you miss the part where I requested you to be less predictable?"

Alois sighs but raises his arms up, allowing for the fabric to be draped over him and swaying a little as he pushes his arms into the sleeves.

"Claude," he whines again. "You said tonight, didn't you? It's night. Don't make me wait!"

Claude says nothing. He leaves the candle on the bedside table and makes his exit, accompanied by the pitched shriek of anger.

"Claude! Don't you dare turn..."

The rest of the sentence is cut off as Claude quietly shuts the doors behind himself. All he has to do now is wait. He takes a step back, allowing the darkness to swallow him. It feels nostalgic, the silence and the anticipation of the hunt reminding him of previous centuries spent exactly the same way. He doesn't have to wait for long as the doors swing back open.

"Claude?" Alois's voice looses some of its haugtiness. "Claud-de?" he repeats more tentatively. The darkness has always unsettled him. The little light from the candle behind him makes the swirling shadows in the hall even more menacing.

Where Alois has to squint and strain his eyes to see anything, Claude would have no difficulty in making out his features even if it were pitch black. He can see the boy begin to tremble, wrapping his arms around himself for additional comfort as he calls for him again.

Claude wonders if Alois is desperate enough to follow him. Stepping outside into the darkness that terrifies him is as reckless as the boy will get. Alois finally makes up his mind. He turns around and walks into the bedroom. Claude feels mildly disappointed, although that was an obvious choice.

Alois returns, holding the candle in his hand. The tiny flame makes his hair shine golden, casting almost a halo-like glow around his head. Claude finds he likes it. From the quivering lips and the large eyes to the delicate ankles poking out just beneath the lace hem of his nightgown, the boy is a picture of innocence, stripped of his pretence and overplayed flamboyance.

"C-claude."

Alois's voice trembles and so does the candle in his hand. He adjusts his grip, fingers white against the soft wax. Claude shuts his eyes, inhaling the fragrance of the boy's fear. It's not yet prominent, his previous arousal being more powerful than the adrenaline. Claude smirks as his ears catch the quickening of Alois's pulse. His little heart drums against his ribs, faster and faster, in a contagious rhythm that makes Claude feel the echo of his excitement.

"Answer me, Claude!"

"Yes, master?"

The demon moves soundlessly, closing the distance between them to drawl the words into Alois's ear, startling the boy.

Alois jumps and drops the candle. Claude steps onto the wick, putting the flame out. He will have to clean the carpet tomorrow, but he's allowed some liberties, even if for one evening. Alois grunts, trying to catch him, but his fingertips brush against the butler uniform. Claude seems to dissolve back into the darkness, too quickly and smooth for the boy to grab him.

"I'm getting tired of this game," Alois announces.

He stretches his arm out nevertheless, blindly moving his hand and taking baby steps, dragging his feet onto the carpet. He wobbles a little, as if being robbed of his eyesight affected his remaining senses. Slow but determined, he continues walking. Claude realises late that Alois wasn't looking for him. The boy tugs on the heavy curtain, managing to slide it halfway off for a stripe of silver moonlight to pierce the velvety darkness.

Alois shrieks as Claude lunges at him, pushing him against the wall. He wheezes, hands instinctively flying forward to hold onto the attacker, but he relaxes suddenly.

"You caught me, Claude," he giggles.

Alois wraps his legs around Claude's, as far as the restricting nightgown allows. He tries to grind against the man's hip and Claude raises his knee up, propping the boy and pinning him against the wall even harder.

"What are you gonna do now, that I'm at your mercy?" Alois purrs.

Claude looks at him smile, undisturbed by the treat that he cannot even see. That smugness doesn't belong on his face. Claude clenches his jaw, the anger and irritation rising up in him. Alois continues to rub against him like an animal in heat. Claude pushes forward, his hip digging into the boy until he squeaks. Alois groans and grabs onto his shoulders, fisting the fabric of the longcoat.

"Mmm," he hums for no reason at all.

Claude wraps his hand around the boys throat, using his thumb to push Alois's chin up. The boy's eyes look black, the irises not more than a hair-thick circle over the dilated pupils. He still appears unafraid, looking back at Claude with revolting admiration and trust.

Alois doesn't wait for Claude to do anything. He moves his hand to card his fingers through Claude's hair, leaning forward and tilting his head for a kiss. Claude allows him to probe around a bit, the slide of his lips eager but unskilled, too hurried to be enjoyable. He pushes the boy off, holding him in place before moving in to kiss him properly.

Alois hisses as Claude wastes no time for teasing. His tongue invades the boy's mouth, hot and quick. He swipes it against Alois's tongue, curling around its tip. Claude feels the edge of the boy's teeth and tickles his palate, savouring the muffled cries of surprise. He knows Alois had from little to no experience at this, but he tries to keep up, mimicking Claude's movements and tugging on his hair to pull the man closer. Alois gasps as the kiss gets rougher, the assault of Claude's teeth and lips and tongue making it difficult for him to breathe.

Claude feels the boy jerk in his grip, struggling like a trapped bird. He moves back a tiny bit, squeezing his left arm between them. He bites onto his glove, pulling it off his hand. The contract mark glows dimly, its reflection playing in the depth of Alois's pupils. The eerie light makes his face sharper, eyes appearing to be sunken deep into the sockets over the prominent cheekbones. Claude watches the boy pant, the beads of sweat scattered across his forehead.

Claude quickly pushes the pearly buttons of the gown through the loops, undoing them midway to Alois's collarbone. He caresses the dimple at the base of the boy's neck, his nails dark against the pale flesh. Claude scrapes them against Alois's throat, eliciting a mewl. He claims his mouth once again, this time biting the pliable lips. Alois whimpers, urging him on. He swallows convulsively, his Adam's apple bobbing down and hitting Claude's thumb.

Alois's body is light, all limbs and protruding ribs. So fragile despite his owner's stubbornness, so tempting to break. Claude strokes the thin neck, increasing the pressure of his fingers. He can almost close his palm around the boy's throat, although he doesn't need to do that. It would take just one finger, pressed against Alois's windpipe to choke the life out of him. A surge of arousal at the prospect slithers down his spine. There is nothing stopping him.

Claude clamps his hand around the base of Alois's neck, his thumb sinking into the sinewy throat. Alois tries to inhale, the air gurgling in his throat.

"Whh."

His eyes snap open as he feels the discomfort. He tries to break the kiss, using his tongue to push Claude's out of his mouth. Alois hits the pin points of Claude's elongated fangs, piercing his tongue on them. His blood is rich and fresh, the coppery taste complimenting the sweetness of the boy's escaping breath.

"K-kll," Alois chokes. He thrashes and tries to kick. His small firsts hit Claude's shoulders, again and again, although the initial confident blows get weaker. "Whh Kl..."

"Is that thrilling enough for you, your highness?" Claude sneers. "Is this everything you wanted?"

He releases his grip for a moment, allowing Alois to swallow some air before closing his hand around him tighter. He watches the tears form in his eyes as the boy's further gulps for air remain futile.

"Are you excited, master? Is your stomach fluttering, your blood rushing through your veins?"

Alois's face is turning darker. He's clawing at Claude's hand, squirming and struggling to get away as his teeth clatter. His nails draw blood, but Claude pays it no mind. The marks the boy will leave can be easily hidden under his gloves. They are nothing compared to the bruises Claude's fingers will cause. Alois's tears stream down his face, the scorching heat of them hitting Claude's wrist.

The sigil doesn't respond, counting his actions as a fulfilment of the order. Alois can't get enough wind in his lungs to give a command to stop. Nothing in the whole world is preventing Claude from finishing him. Nothing, except for his reluctance to dispose of his toy so quickly.

Claude lets himself enjoy it a second longer, savouring the power he holds over Alois. The moment stretches, imprinting into his memory, where he can play it over and over in centuries to come. When he senses Alois's body go limp in his grip, Claude releases the boy. Alois slides down the wall, dropping into a heap at the demons feet. He coughs, wheezing and gasping, shaking violently. His own hand rubs at his throat, to protect it or to erase the ache of Claude's touch.

"Hr.. Whh... Why, Claude?" he rasps as another coughing fit rolls over him. Alois sobs, wiping his face with his sleeve and smearing the tears and the blood from the bitten tongue all over. He hides his face in the crook of his elbow, wailing.

"Because that was what you ordered, master. And because I could."

"Y-you know that wasn't what I meant!"

"Then perhaps your highness should give some thought to the way he voices his desires. Now, should I continue?"

"No!" Alois shrieks, his voice breaking. "I command you not to! Stay where you are! I don't want it, forget what I said."

"Ah, master, changing your mind so quickly. Very well, let it be so."

"I hate you! I hate you, you bastard! You hear that?" Alois raises his head up, his eyes burning over the glistening streaks his tears left.

"I'm afraid I had no mother to be considered a bastard. But if this pleases your lordship..."

"Curse you!" Alois grabs onto Claude's trousers, shaking him as of to stress his words.

"But don't you feel more alive now, master?"

Claude remains unmovable as Alois cries die away. The boy is still trembling. He rests his head against the man's thigh.

"I hate you, Claude," he whispers, clinging to him as he tries to convince himself as what he feels is hatred indeed. "Why do you have to be like that?"

"I did precisely what you ordered, your highness. Acting less predictable and less of my usual self, did I not?"

"Do you have to twist everything I order you to do?"

His question won't be answered, as both of them know the truth. Alois wipes his face in the crotch of Claude's trousers, finally calming down. He sighs and nuzzles against him, forgetting his previous claims of loathing.

"Ooh," he coos as he bumps against the bulge in front of his butlers pants. "Mmm, Claude," he purrs, his hurts easily dismissed and forgiven. As if to make sure he's not mistaken, Alois raises his hand to stroke along the hidden hard length. His fingers dance over the stretched fabric, curious and eager. He looks up at Claude, appearing almost shy. "Do you mind if I?.."

"How considerate you should ask, master."

The answer isn't affirmative and Alois hesitates. He studies Claude's face, a pale form half-exposed by the unsteady moonlight, but there is nothing in his features to prompt him the correct way to handle this. Alois swipes his fingers up and down, sneaking them between the buttons on the crotch. His actions meet no objection so he gets bolder, undoing them slowly.

Alois reaches inside, pulling on the cord of the underpants and yanking them down, enough to expose Claude's erection. He keens, grasping the thick cock at the base and rubbing his face against it.

"Oh, Claude," he chants, voice full of awe. He adds nothing else, too busy stroking the shaft. Alois has to hold it with both hands to fit it in his palm, the gesture akin to worship. He looks up, his face serene, as he pauses with his mouth hovering over the tip.

The warmth of his breath caresses the sensitive skin. Alois moves his locked hands lower, exposing the moistened head more. He lets out a shaken sigh, the gust of air making Claude's cock twitch.

Slowly, not breaking the eye contact, Alois drags the tip of his tongue across the underside. He swirls it over the swollen glans, holding onto the shaft as if to prevent his butler from running away. Claude puts his gloved hand on the boy's cheek, finding the sight of his cock against that face to be rather appealing.

Alois hums, doubling his efforts at the slightest display of affection. He licks the head, tickling it with the tip of his tongue and trying to push it into the slit. He makes a little surprised sound a drop of precum oozes out. Alois pulls away, the thick clear string connecting his lips to Claude's prick.

Claude wipes it off with his gloved hand. He pushes his moistened finger into the boy's mouth. Alois sucks it in and Claude presses on his tongue, massaging the sigil hidden from his sight. He grimaces, baring his teeth as his own body responds to the stimulation of their contract mark. Claude feels the pressure in his lower back, the heat similar to that of Alois's mouth lick up his spine. He grunts, wondering how intense it can get. They will just have to see.

Claude pulls his finger away, painting Alois's lips with his own saliva. Quiet and obedient, the boy looks up at him, eager to please. His glistening lips are so inviting and Claude finds no reason why he should resist. Taking himself in hand, he pushes his cock to them. Alois wraps his lips around the thick head without further prompt, sighing as if he found pleasure in the act as well.

He moves his tongue around diligently, although the tip is too large for him to maneuver properly. Alois strokes the shaft with his hands, making up for what his mouth cannot cover. He applies a little suction, pulling his head back simultaneously. The boy makes an occasional slurp and Claude grunts, the sound serving as an additional exquisite caress.

He purposefully avoids guiding Alois for a while, allowing him to work on pleasuring him in his own manner. Alois switches to licks, as his jaw must be getting tired. The air feels cool on the wet skin, providing contrast to the heated tongue gliding all over the shaft. Claude puts his hand on top of Alois's head, prompting him to take him back into that delicious tight mouth. He rocks his hips slightly, driving a little deeper but leaving room for Alois to move back if he gags.

And there it is. Claude snarls as the sigil on the boy's tongue connects to the underside of his cock. A jolt of intense joy shoots through him, too powerful and overwhelming, quickly escalating to pain. He has to jerk back, his cock popping out and smacking Alois in the face. Claude hisses, annoyed at how strong his reaction was and how unaware of it he was till now.

"Stick your tongue out," he barks, scowling at the sound of his voice. He should play a loyal servant to the end, helpful yet detached, however, Claude cannot bring himself to care about it at the moment.

Alois squirms, folding his legs under himself. He does as he was told without arguing. He has the nerve to grin at his butler before he sticks his tongue out. He helps Claude, clasping his small palm over the man's and bringing his cock closer to his glowing contract mark.

Alois rubs his tongue under the cockhead, hitting the right spot. Claude groans, the rumbling sound echoing down the hall. He is certain he has troubled the rest of the servants, perhaps they are even watching them right now, but if any living or dead creature dares to interrupt them, that would be the last mistake they make.

Claude breathes through his teeth, clenching them to hold back his grunts. He reduces them to hissing, the sound barely human. Alois moans and whimpers, not trying to hide his enjoyment. Claude would gloat at the idea, had he not been too preoccupied by keeping his composure.

The mark on Alois's tongue flicks against the pulsing shaft in a series of rapid short strokes. Claude's nails scrape against the wall as he bites back his howl. His hips jab forward on their own, his instincts driving him closer to the caressing heat. Alois takes him in eagerly, engulfing as much as he can. He moves his tongue restlessly, and the combination of pleasure and pain is perfect, driving Claude to the edge.

He feels the stone crumble and slide under his nails where his fingers scratch the wall. Claude straightens them, bracing his palm against the stone as he looks down. Alois's cheeks are flushed and he strokes the right side of his face in a surge of uncalled endearment, feeling it bulge where his cock pushes against the cheek from inside. The selflessness with which the boy touches him is flattering, and the effort he puts into satisfying him with getting nothing in return is precious.

Claude watches his shaft slide in and out of Alois's mouth, admiring the stretched lips that hug his girth so snugly. He can sense his cock getting harder, yet he fights back the urge to spend. The pleasure runs through him in waves, his body getting accustomed to the pain of the stimulation from the contract mark.

The original intensity dulls a bit, allowing him to enjoy the glide of the boy's tongue, combined with the light suction. Before long, Claude feels his body shudder. He snarls, pulling away and clasping his hands around his prick.

It takes him several tugs to spill. The pent up pressure leaves his body in a rush, causing his knees to buck as he spends and spends, his release landing across Alois's face in thick white streaks. They cover the boys forehead and cheeks, dripping down onto the shirt. Claude grunts, the picture they make adding to his enjoyment. He squeezes his cock to the last dribble, struggling to even out his breathing as he promptly tucks himself away and buttons up.

Alois touches his fingers to his face, frowning as if he was confused. Claude exhales through his nose, already regretting being so unrestrained. Perhaps, an apology would be necessary, but he doesn't want to bother wording it.

"Was everything to your liking, your highness?"

Claude pinches the triangle of the handkerchief, plucking it out of his pocket. He wipes the boy's face, his movements quick and to the point. Alois jerks his hand away when Claude tries to clean it, sticking his fingers in his mouth. He grimaces at the taste but swallows regardless, pulling them out damp with his saliva only.

"Claude?"

"Yes, your highness?"

Claude picks him up and Alois nestles in his arms, tucking his head under the man's chin. Claude thinks he'll have to find his glove and scrape the wax off the carpet after he puts the boy in bed.

"It's not true what I said earlier. I don't hate you... All the time," Alois mumbles groggily.

"I am deeply honoured to hear that, master," Claude replies non-chalantly.

He has nothing else to add. Besides, the child master in his arms is already asleep.


End file.
